Waterboard Meetings, Bike Crashes, and Knee Surgery

Recently, to my surprise and happiness, Mike arrived home earlier than usual from work. My excitement was short-lived, however, as he had only come home early ... so he could attend our local waterboard meeting.

"You can come," he offered. 

"Come?" I asked, aghast. "To the waterboard meeting?"

I know we aren't living in the 1800s. Still, I felt the waterboard meeting was no place for a female! 

Perhaps, if I were a strong-minded woman, husbandless, and, against all convention, running my land on my own, I'd pull up my bootstraps (hard--since I don't know exactly what bootstraps are ... or if I even have them on my boots), and, with dirt under my nails, march confidently into the waterboard meeting to demand my opinions on canal water usage and the like (???) be heard along with everyone else's. I'd demand their respect. And they'd be forced to give it.

But since I do not currently need to rise to the standard of that fearless woman, ... I did not attend the waterboard meeting. (Mike told me after that there were indeed two women there. One who kept the minutes. [Reasonable.] And one who simply came. Well. I am certain she knew about pulling up her bootstraps! (And I will too ... if life ever necessitates that I do. But not a moment before. The waterboard meeting. Goodness!)

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Our Hansie had quite the bike crash last weekend. Poor kid. Here he is being bandaged up by Mike. When I commented on how strange it was that he had road rash and open wounds in so many different areas, Hans said, "Yah. That's because I skipped just like a stone when you throw it across water." And then he sort of demonstrated by hand his body going "bounce bounce bounce." Haha. Good explanation. Poor little adored fella.

Speaking of bouncing. We have finally pretty much cleared out our big storage unit. (Which now means our garage is completely full. Weep.) The kids have been having fun pulling out things that have been stored away for nearly three years. 

And speaking of Hans: here he is doing a little science experimenting for his upcoming 3rd-grade science fair.

------------------------------------------------------------

In telling me what she wanted for lunch the other day, Starling asked for "one of those eggs that stays in a 3D circle permanently". (As opposed to scrambled or fried.)

Also, shortly after getting the kids their fair goats, Mike decided to get Starling a goat as well. Starling is too young to show goats at the fair yet, but maybe we will keep this one to produce future fair goats. In the meantime, Starling, after a great deal of private consideration, has named her Kristy. And become quite capable at bottle feeding her all by herself. (Though Mette is feeding Kristy here.)

The little list of names she was considering.

Starling lost two teeth last week. One of them almost caused a major meltdown when it fell down the drain. But siblings, who had experienced lost teeth of their own, assured her the tooth fairy would be fine with just a note.

------------------------------------------------------------

What else is going on around here?

Oh, I know! Me! I had knee surgery. 

Comforting to see they made certain to do the correct knee. ... 

I actually feel like "knee surgery" (for a torn meniscus) might be too big of a term. True I was put to sleep, and true I'm still swollen and sore and hobbling two weeks later, but the incisions are only two puny x's (one for a tiny camera and one for a scalpel or ... some other sort of instrument). It feels more like I should say I had a "knee procedure". (Especially because Mike's aunt [who lives up here by us] is on her second full knee replacement and has to go back for an emergency third surgery because somehow her kneecap is displaced. Yes, we best just call mine a "minor knee procedure". Still, this procedure is a "between a rock and a hard place" sort of thing. The surgery itself can actually increase the likelihood of future problems (booo), but I was going on about eight months of not being able to do much with my knee as it was--which didn't seem a great option for life either. So I was finally forced to just cross my fingers and dive in ... hoping this will get me back to normal activity soon.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Abe often changes our family group text name (based on various things that have come up in family happenings or conversations). Here are two of our recent group names:

----------------------------------------------------------------

And now, perhaps, a jumble of the other photos I have sitting about.

My friend Jessica from Vegas came up to visit.

Mette making meatloaf for dinner. (Since I love meatloaf ... and Mike doesn't, she also made snickerdoodles. [As Mike likes them and I don't particularly.]) Abe reminded me that it was when I had foot surgery years ago that I first instituted the after-dinner chore chart. Surgery must be the inspiration for all such things because, being down for a few days, I quickly realized how much I was doing that the kids should be helping with. Which has caused me to have a family meeting to tell them about a new official Saturday chore chart. Mike also suggested they start making dinners occasionally. Hence the meatloaf. (Mette likes working in the kitchen. I'm guessing many of their meals will be along the lines of macaroni.)

Kids around the house. (The family room has finally pretty much taken shape. I'm eager to start working on walls.)

Kids and ... kids.

(Everything is looking so green at the farm right now! It seemed impossible even a month ago! I'm sure it won't last long with this drought we are in, but it sure looks pretty!)

The reading room. 

The End.

Daisy Moves Beyond Handwriting With Tears

I don't know quite why, but when I think of Daisy, a part of me will sort of always think of the 2 to 8ish version of her. Not necessarily the baby Daisy. Or tween Daisy. Or teen Daisy. Or even now adult (!) Daisy. I know she is all of those stages. And I have loved and adored her at all of them. But little kid Daisy? It was just such a very Daisyish phase! And she doesn't really exist, in my mind anyway--and probably in her own soul as well--apart from that child version of herself.

Even so, one must admit, she has lived a decent chunk of time beyond those years! And accomplished a fair amount to boot!

Here she is celebrating her 24th birthday with us all.

(The three pictures below were taken by Starling--who needed to document all of the creations she gifted Daisy.)

And here she is graduating from BYU with her master's degree in statistics! (Did you read that? Masters in statistics!)

We ran into my brother Aaron's daughter Josie at commencement. She was there for the graduation of her boyfriend. Aaron and Allison happened to be in town as well (for their daughter Olivia's graduation), so they came over to Abe's house to see us for a while afterwards. That was happy.

Sadly, Goldie and Wyatt had to work. Gayle was there as well--splitting the time between Daisy's graduation events and Mike's brother Greg's wife Rhonda's graduation with her PhD. (We all went to their house after to celebrate.)

The four girls from Daisy's cohort.

Abe and Kenya waving goodbye to us from their cute little house with its white picket fence.

One of the best parts about Daisy's two years working on her master's degree was her statistics cohort (the 15 people she went through the program with). They all got along so well and were forever doing fun activities together. Even the married ones brought their wives along and participated. They all became such great friends. Here several of them are running a 5K a few days after graduation.

A few of them at graduation.

All of them (minus one who didn't come to graduation).

Daisy herself after the post-graduation 5K.

Congratulations on all the growing up and becoming, Daisy! Even I, the one who still sees you partly as a five-year-old, must admit that you've long ago outgrown Handwriting With Tears. (Handwriting With Tears was one of the workbooks I used for Daisy when I homeschooled her for a time in 1st grade. It was actually called Handwriting Without Tears, but we had to rename it ... for obvious reasons.)